


A Late Night Declaration

by Writcraft



Series: Rainy Weekend Prompts [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, F/F, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Humor, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: Minerva and Rolanda agree breaking up was a very bad idea.
Relationships: Rolanda Hooch/Minerva McGonagall
Series: Rainy Weekend Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649929
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	A Late Night Declaration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CheekyTorah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyTorah/gifts).



> Written for CheekyTorah who requested Lightning Era McGonagall/Hooch with close friendship, pining, friends to lovers etc. I'm afraid I didn't quite get all the detail of the prompt in, but there's a little pining, a close friendship and a getting back together twist which I hope works okay. Thank you for the prompt!

“What time of night do you call this?”

“Bloody hell—I mean blimey, Professor.” Ronald Weasley turns with a yelp, shoving what looks suspiciously like one of the kitchen’s breakfast muffins into the pocket of his dressing gown. “You scared me half to death.”

Minerva purses her lips and looks around for signs of Potter and Hermione Granger, but they’re nowhere to be seen. “Do you know what else is frightening Mr Weasley?”

“Spiders?” Weasley attempts a weak smile and Minerva sniffs with displeasure.

“Not quite. If Professor Snape uses your out-of-hours meandering as an excuse to take House Points from Gryffindor, I can assure you my reaction will be significantly more terrifying than a few harmless arachnids.” 

“I’ll just, err, go to bed then?” He backs away, clearly hoping his dubious charms will get him out of trouble. Considering the havoc Weasley and Potter have wrought with their fondness for sniffing out trouble, he really should know better.

“Five points from Gryffindor. I suggest you get back to bed quickly, before I make it ten.”

“On my way!” Weasley races off into the darkness, well out of earshot by the time Minerva thinks she should have reminded him not to run in the corridors.

Minerva sighs. She removes her glasses and cleans them on her robes before finishing her check of the school. Everything else is quite still, which is a pity as it would have been nice to take points from one of the other houses to even things out. That’s the trouble with Gryffindors. They have a habit of investigating things that are better left alone. It’s no wonder the House Cup is always such a precarious affair. Gryffindors may have their moments of brilliance, but they also have a tendency to seek out adventure and flout all the rules in the process. Officially, Minerva wishes they were better behaved. Unofficially, she can't help but feel a swell of pride when she thinks of the latest crop of Gryffindor students.

Minerva makes her way to the Astronomy Tower and breathes in the night air. In the distance a familiar figure swoops through the sky, her cape flying behind her as she leans forward on her broom. Minerva has half a mind to go down to the Quidditch pitch and ask Rolanda how on earth she expects students to stay in their beds if their own flying instructor can’t keep sensible hours. 

After watching Rolanda chase through the clouds for a few moments longer, Minerva decides against intervening. It would be unwise to seek out Rolanda now they’re no longer on speaking terms. Feeling morose at the reminder of the space between them, Minerva walks back to her chambers, lost in thought. Once settled in her private space, she takes off the shoes that pinch her feet and massages away the strain of another long day. She slips off her outer robes and exchanges her formal teaching attire for a comfortable jumper and a pair of wool slacks. Much better.

Eventually Minerva settles at her desk, just as she's done every night since that almighty bust-up with Ro. She opens a small drawer and removes a photograph from a year earlier, studying it with a wistful smile. Despite the fact it’s relatively new, cracks are already beginning to web across the surface and the edges are curled due to the number of times Minerva has held the photograph in her hands, remembering.

“Where did we go wrong, Ro?” Minerva contemplates the two witches in the photograph, kissing for the camera. It seemed like such a reckless display at the time, such a thrill. “I really thought we’d make it.”

Minerva’s throat tightens and she wipes the back of her hand across her eyes, swallowing down the first sting of tears. She puts the photograph back in the drawer and closes it firmly, annoyed with herself for becoming so maudlin. _There will be no more of that,_ she thinks. She can’t spend her evenings talking to an old photograph in the hope that one day it might answer back. Minerva loosens her hair with a sigh. Her firm words are far more effective with students than they are when she chastises herself. The photograph will be taken out again and tomorrow night, just as she always does, she’ll return to the Astronomy Tower to watch Rolanda fly and pretend she’s simply undertaking her usual nightly check of the school.

Minerva is just about to pour herself a nightcap and settle for an hour with her book when the door to her chambers opens with force. It slams closed just as quickly, as Rolanda strides up to Minerva. Breathing heavily, Rolanda yanks off her goggles and flings her broom with practiced ease to the stand in the corner of the room. She stuffs her wand in her holster and holds her finger up, puffing— _one minute_ —as she catches her breath. Her cheeks are flushed red, her silvery grey hair has a distinctly hedgehog-like quality and all things considered, Rolanda Hooch has never been lovelier.

“Would you like a glass of water, or—?”

“Water?” Rolanda wheezes and straightens. “Merlin, all that racing down the corridors winded me. Is the Scotch not for sharing?”

Minerva's lips twitch into a smile, an easy calm settling over her. Rolanda is back. Back, with something important to say. Warmth gathers in Minerva's chest. She's so very fond of Ro, so cross with herself for letting things go this long without resolution. She should have marched onto the Quidditch pitch after all, students be damned. She's sure it would do the likes of young Ronald Weasley some good to know that his professors are human too. Particularly the ones he probably imagines are as ancient as a first edition _Hogwarts: A History_.

“You're welcome to have a Scotch instead if you wish,” Minerva offers. 

“In a minute.” Rolanda catches her breath at last. “First, there’s something I want to say. I’ve been flying around for at least three hours, my fingers are practically icicles by now—useless new range of gloves from Firebolt—and my toes are so numb from the cold I was starting to worry I lost them during a Wronski Feint.”

“I’ll put on the fire,” Minerva decides. She flicks her wand towards the fire and pours another Scotch while she’s at it, in the hope Ro might be staying. “Is that better?”

“Not a lot,” Rolanda says. “It’s not going to be better, is it? Not until we sort out this infernal mess.”

“A blanket, perhaps?” Minerva really is quite worried about Rolanda’s shivering.

“You’re ruining my romantic late night declaration,” Rolanda huffs. “Cast a Warming Charm over me if you must. Not too warm, please. I don’t want chilblains.” 

“Of course.” Minerva casts a quick charm that mercifully stops Rolanda from shivering. “Now you’re no longer at risk of hypothermia you can declare away.”

“I’m incapable of being without you,” Rolanda says. She steps closer to Minerva, her voice lowering. “Quite incapable.”

Minerva raises her eyebrows.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” Rolanda folds her arms and glares at Minerva. “Stop that at once.”

“I’m not saying a word.” Minerva holds up her hands. “Although I would hardly say you’re _incapable_ —”

“Well of course I’m not,” Rolanda snaps. “I’m exaggerating. It sounded better when I practiced my speech, but then everything sounds better when you’re flying. It’s just a turn of phrase, the sort of thing Warbeck would probably put in a song.”

“I’m sorry.” Minerva coughs, trying very hard not to laugh. Rolanda narrows her eyes and taps her foot impatiently. “I’ll try to avoid nitpicking.”

“You’ll be correcting my grammar next,” Rolanda mutters. “I’m trying to explain that I would rather be with you than without you. Do you understand that well enough?”

“I understand that better than you could ever imagine.” Minerva reaches for Rolanda and takes her hand. “I’ve missed you, Ro.” 

“We got there in the end.” Rolanda gives Minerva a grin. “Perhaps it would have been easier if I’d led with this.”

Rolanda closes the distance between them and gives Minerva a fierce kiss. Her Quidditch leathers are cool and solid beneath Minerva's fingers, and her lips taste like the night sky. It's been far too long without her. Minerva clutches her close, savouring the heat of a searching mouth against her own. With a sigh of contentment, Minerva holds Rolanda tighter still, desire curling within her. She can't get enough of Ro's touch, the firm grasp of leather-clad hands sending shivers of pleasure whispering across her skin. It’s very tempting to stop talking altogether, but she suspects a conversation would be wise. Rolanda seems to agree, breaking the kiss before they can get carried away. 

“I’m sorry, Minnie.” Rolanda runs her gloved hands along Minerva’s arms, clutching the soft wool of her jumper. “I made such a bloody mess of it all.”

“I was no better.” Minerva kisses Rolanda again, gentler this time. She's always loved that Rolanda is a little shorter, the way it feels to press her palm against Rolanda's cheek and the gentle, familiar crick in her neck as she lowers her head for dizzying kisses. “We both got muddled up for a while.

“Let’s have a Scotch and thrash it out a bit before bed, eh?” Rolanda gives Minerva a wink. “Only let’s not spend too long on the first part.”

Minerva agrees that seems like an excellent plan.


End file.
